The awakening

Aurora woke up, but didn't open her eyes right away.

Her whole body ached, as if she had been run over by a tractor. Her muscles throbbed, her head felt heavy. She groaned softly, grumbling, feeling the hard, warm ground beneath her back.

She tried to move her fingers first. Then her shoulders. She was lying on something rough and uneven, like rough stone.

She opened her eyes slowly.

The light hit her hard, dry and aggressive. She closed them again, reflexively. She took a deep breath. She tried again, more slowly. And this time, she saw.

The sky was not blue. Nor white. Nor gray.

It was a dull, metallic shade, a blue burned like steel plate after fire. No clouds. No visible sun. But too bright. It illuminated everything with an opaque, almost cruel glow.

Aurora blinked several times, sitting up with effort. Her body protested with every movement.

She looked around.

At first, she thought she was on a mountain—until she saw what was beyond the edge.

It was a mistake of nature. A place that shouldn't exist.

Burning sand swallowed thick roots that sprouted from twisted trunks stuck in the middle of dunes. Trees grew from the cracked ground with leaves dripping salt water. The sea licked pieces of rock, then crawled over dry bushes, receding with a roar that sounded like a beast.

Mountains tore through the horizon, but there, close to her, they appeared out of nowhere — like broken columns, leaning, stuck between stretches of forest and mud.

The ground was unstable. Where she stepped was rock, but a few meters away, sand. Then mud. Then water.

A stifling heat, from all sides.

Nothing made sense.

All together.

No transition. No logic. As if someone had thrown four different worlds onto the same board and let them push each other until they collided.

She turned again. The rock under her feet burned. She walked slowly, looking down at the valley below.

The sound was the worst. She couldn't tell what it was. It came from all sides — like muffled screams, as if the ground itself were breathing. A crack behind her, then something that sounded like a growl. Or a moan. Or both. Wet, dry noises, echoing between rocks, meaningless. No noise made sense there. None seemed natural.

Aurora stood still.

Her heart was pounding. Cold sweat ran down her back.

She didn't know where she was. And worse — she didn't know if she was alive.

“Is this a dream?” she whispered to herself. “Or am I dead?”

But the pain in her body was all too real.

And so was the fear.

“Finally awake, princess?” Thales' voice echoed from below, sarcastic.

 “We have to get out before we're attacked.”

Aurora slowly turned her neck, her muscles stiff with tension. The voice was real. He was there. The bastard who had pulled her into that absurd thing.

She struggled to her feet, her body still aching from the fall. The heat of the stone rose up through the soles of her feet.

“You... you disgusting cockroach!” she shouted, spitting out the anger that had been bubbling up since the moment she had been torn from reality.

But the sky roared back.

A sharp sound, like air cut by a blade. Aurora turned her face upward in time to see a gigantic creature crossing the air. A bird. No—a phoenix.

Its wings were on fire, living flames dancing with each beat. As it passed overhead, the hot wind pushed her hair back with force. Aurora crouched reflexively, her arms protecting her head.

The creature's shadow disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. But the impact remained.

With wide eyes, she followed its flight and held her breath when she saw who was riding the bird.

A boy.

Not just any boy.

Kaio?

She blinked, unable to believe it.

The posture was identical. Dark hair, blown back by the wind. The way he held the flaming reins with one hand, his body leaning with instinctive arrogance. The same reckless and dangerous manner. But... it couldn't be.

She whispered, without taking her eyes off the creature:

“But... where the hell is this?”

Nothing made sense. Nothing.

If this was death, it was a confusing, hot, and absurdly real death.

Her knees began to buckle. Her heart raced, trying to keep up with her frantic breathing. The smell of the air changed every second—now it was the sea, now it was burning, now it was wet earth.

Down below, Thales still stared at her with his arms crossed and an impatient expression. As if all this were normal. As if she were delaying his schedule.

“If you're done screaming, princess, we have to get out of here. Now.”

Aurora was still looking at the sky, but the boy and the phoenix had already disappeared into the dark clouds. As if they had never existed.

But she knew what she had seen.

And she knew she was alone there. Without answers. Without grounding.

Her throat dry, she took two steps down. She was about to ask if it was some kind of illusion, but something in Thales's face told her it wasn't time to talk.

Thales appeared, climbing the trail with steady steps, his teeth clenched. His face was dirty with dust and dirt. He was breathing heavily, as if he had run from hell to get there.

“Damn it!” he spat, looking over his shoulder. “They've found us.”

Aurora followed his gaze, not knowing what to look for. The sky, once empty, was now filled with distorted shapes cutting through the clouds.

Winged creatures — but none were ordinary birds. Some had leather wings, others silver feathers, but none looked natural. One looked like a grotesque cross between a raven and a panther. Another had the head of a wolf and a body covered in scales, its eyes glowing an unhealthy blue. All of them had someone riding on their backs. Warriors. Black armor, spears in hand. Heading their way.

Aurora took a step back, but the sounds of hooves and paws behind her made her turn around.

On the slope below, land creatures advanced: tigers the size of trucks, with golden eyes and gleaming fangs. There were also wolves with three tails and a kind of eyeless rhinoceros, guided by a hooded warrior. All mounted. All coming toward them.

“If we don't get into Tron territory soon, we're dead.”

Aurora blinked, confused. “Tron?! Are you making up words now?!”

Thales cursed, grabbed her arm, and pulled her closer.

“We don't have time for explanations. This is Arcadia. And you, princess... you are the prize that everyone wants.”

“What?” She pulled away from him. “Prize?! What the hell does that mean?”

“I'll tell you later. That is, if we don't die first.”

Thales dragged her to the top of the plateau. The wind was now coming from all directions. The creatures were close enough for Aurora to see the expressions on the riders' faces—hunger. Thirst for blood.

“Are you crazy? Are you going to throw me off a cliff now?!” Aurora shouted, trying to resist.

“I'm not going to throw you. I'm going to save you, again.”

He motioned for her to kneel.

“Sit down. And hold on to something. If you fall, you'll become food for beasts.”

“Hold on to what, idiot?! We're in the middle of a fucking—”

“Now, Balu!”

Thales's shout echoed loudly.

Aurora didn't understand. Until the ground shook.

The ground.

Her eyes widened when the “mountain” beneath her feet shook, then moved. A crack appeared on the side, but it wasn't rock—it was a joint. A muscle of stone. The ground rose with a dull groan.

And only then did she see it.

The entire platform they were standing on was the back of a bear. A colossal bear, made of pure rock, with eyes like burning coals. An ancient creature that rose with fury, leaving its pursuers behind, down below, with the world collapsing at their feet.

Aurora screamed.

Thales just said, without looking at her:

“Welcome to Avalon.”